


We Dinobots

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, Mostly Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a discussion with Hoist over how much they needed new medics, especially one able to treat the Dinobots without taking a bad hit. Of course Wheeljack and Ratchet would perk up and get in the mood to create a brand new Dinobot Medic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Dinobots

**Author's Note:**

> Hello folks!
> 
> Here were go, a new fic just for your enjoyment. Well, fic... more like a collections of drabbles, snippets and other short ficlets that came to me before the release of TF: AoE (which I didn't go to see, due to hesitation then because the movie theater in town wasn't broascasting it anymore... *sighs*). Anyway, browsing over the then-incomplete wikipedia article made me want to write about Dinobots. And... well, here's the result.
> 
> I haven't written many, as I got too caught up in other fic projects (see my Tumblr account for more details, link in my profile), but I'm thinking of writing more.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll like. <3

“How is your shoulder ?”

Ratchet glanced at Wheeljack, who was looming over him worriedly. Normally, he would have found it… cute to have his old friend and part time lover be hovering so much, but right now? It was more irritating than anything else.

“I’m fine,” he grunted. “How many time will you make me repeat it?”

Wheeljack’s light indicators flashed. “Sludge is very sorry. He didn’t meant to throw you away like that. It was an honest to good accident. He… he sometimes forget how big he is, and that he shouldn’t move when you’re scanning him and…” the engineer babbled. In the background, Hoist, who was busy sorting and storing supplies, snorted without pausing in his work.

“Wheeljack… drop it,” Ratchet growled. The other mech looked at him with sad optics, and the medic’s voice became softer. “I know it was an accident and he didn’t meant to do it. I don’t blame him,” he assured the Lancia. Wheeljack seemed reassured enough, probably sensing that Ratchet was sincere.

The old medic certainly was. As he had stated, he didn’t blame Sludge; the mech was always fidgeting and turning over nervously during his check ups, so it stood to reason he would do so once more. Normally, the red and white medic was wary and attentive, ready to dodge when he sensed that his patient was about to move, but from time to time, he happened to be so focused on the scans he didn’t react fast enough.

The result, this time, had been to be thrown violently against a wall, shoulder first. Sludge had wailed and left running, distressed to have done something wrong, and Ratchet had only grunted and asked Hoist to take over the Medbay for the rest of the day while he recovered from the shock. There wasn’t too much damage, thankfully, but his plating was slightly dented and his pain relay were misfiring. Hopefully, they would stop sending him signals sounds as his auto-repairs recalibrated them.

On the downside, it meant he’d have to make Sludge come back once more to finish the scans and update the medical file of the Dinobot. He wasn’t looking forward to that. Getting the Dinobots in the Medbay was what humans would call an ‘herculean task’, as the lot of them were just too stubborn and too prideful to listen to him and come when he asked them. Well, Grimlock, Slag and Snarl certainly were. Swoop and Sludge were usually far more sensible, but even they had their days. Ratchet had to use treasures of patience and deceptions to make them dance to his tune and bring their afts in the Medbay, and that was only for routine maintenance! From bribery with energon goodies to threats that were promptly ignored and side attacks such as using Swoop to make puppy optics at them until they caved in, he had to multiply attempts, and that didn’t sit well by him.

As much as he liked the Dinobots and was proud of having been part of their creation -- in more ways than one -- he had better things to do of his days than running after a couple of overgrown metallic iguanas, especially when other patients could use his care.

Yes, taking care of the Dinobots could be problematic...

“The Dinobots don’t mean to do a lot of things. Doesn’t mean they don’t do it anyway,” Hoist pipped, and Ratchet glared at him to make him shut up as he saw Wheeljack’s shoulders sag. The other medic raised his hands high in surrender. “I’m just saying.”

Wheeljack’s head hung low. “I know,” he admitted in a small time. “But it’s honestly not their fault, sometimes,” he insisted.

“I never said it always was,” Hoist pointed out. “However, I’d like to remind you it’s the fifth time in two human months that someone from the medical field get injured while trying to oversee the Dinobots’ health, and it’s getting a bit… preoccupying. You know Red Alert is going to screech. And Prowl and Prime won’t be impressed either,” he added.

Ratchet and Wheeljack exchanged a look. Hoist was right. Even if it was an accident, it would still end up on the Dinobots’ records. Records which Red Alert used time and time again to show how the five mechs were dangerous and untrustworthy. Which in turn make people even more wary of them, and had the vicious effect to make the Dinobots even more unruly for they weren’t about to try and make an effort to be friendly with mechs who obviously distrusted them.

“It was accidents… just accidents,” Wheeljack protested weakly. “The time with First Aid shouldn’t count… Snarl had damaged audio, he hadn’t heard him approach and he was startled… It was an honest to Primus accident, First Aid didn’t even press charge.”

“But Red recorded it all the same. You know nothing escape him,” Hoist said quietly. “And although I do agree it was just an accident, like Sludge throwing Ratchet against the whole was, or Slag headbutting me, well…” He paused a moment. “Some day, if we’re not careful, these accidents may very well become lethal.”

“And what should we do, then? Stop treating them and let them to their own devices?” Ratchet snarked, making Wheeljack look both alarmed and distressed and Hoist raised his hands once again.

“I never said that! I’m just saying that we either need to become extra careful when we’re trying to check them or repair them -- which we are already and we all know it isn’t sufficient anymore -- or we need more personnel.”

It made the other two mechs pause and Hoist elaborated. “Think about it. We’re understaffed, even if we managed to find a way to make the Medbay fully functional with always at least one fledged medic on duty. The humans are nice and all, but what they can do is limited. Same thing for the crew: most of them don’t even have a crash course in field treatment, and those who do can only do that much to treat the most pressing issues. We don’t have any Nurses, or any specialists to assist, no surgeons and, no offense Wheeljack, no medical engineer to manufacture delicate parts.” Wheeljack’s light indicator flashed briefly, but he didn’t contest. Medical engineering wasn’t his speciality, even if he had notions. “Now, I know that we can go on Cybertron and request someone to transfer, especially with the Space Bridge in the hands of the Decepticons, but you have to admit it would be nice if we could.”

“It would,” Ratchet allowed. “But you know that whoever we’d get would still have troubles with the Dinobots. They don’t trust easily, especially not mechs who aren’t Dinobots themselves. They tolerate First Aid because he is nice to them -- same thing for Fireflight and Bluestreak --, and I dare say they like and respect Wheeljack and I because we created them, but anyone else is fair game.”

“Don’t I know that,” Hoist said wrily, remembering powerful jaws snapping at him.

“What we’d need would be a medic strong enough to hold them down should they try to roughhouse him, someone strong enough to gain their respect -- sorry, Ratchet, I don’t mean to say they don’t respect you, because they really do, and you’re one of the only mechs they listen to anyway, but you… well, you can’t stop them from going on a rampage or physically force them into compliance,” Wheeljack said, obviously ashamed.

“None taken,” the white and red mech grunted, knowing he was right. “We’d need a more imposing medic, I admit. Someone who could hold his own against Grimlock in a bad mood and convince to come down for his shots. Sadly, we both know it’s not something that can be won in a battle of wits or with simple words.”

“Yeah,” Hoist snorted. “More like we need someone with a giant mallet to knock him out and drag his aft to the Medbay.”

“It’s not very deontological,” Wheeljack frowned a bit, but his optics were shining with mirth.

“Who cares, so long the Dinobots are tamed?” Ratchet chuckled. Then he shook his head. “Sadly, I don’t know anyone who could do that. Medical training takes time, intelligence, precise gestures and processor speed. I had hoped I could perhaps turn Swoop into a full-fledged medic, and he is giving a good try at it, but sadly, it’ll take millions of vorns before he can get anywhere in the field.”

“He’s that bad, then?” Hoist asked, curious. He had noticed how Swoop tended to hover around the Medbay at time, and he had more or less known Ratchet was thinking of teaching him a few things, but he didn’t know how far the process had gone.

“Yes and no,” Ratchet said, frowning. “He gives it an honest try, but he’s easily distracted, and he doesn’t have the drive to learn. Oh, he will probably make a good First Responder or a competent Nurse given time, but he will never be a full-fledged medic, and even less so a surgeon. And you know both how much we could use that,” he added.

Wheeljack nodded grimly. Yes, he knew. “So, someone strong, not easily intimidated, large enough to eventually tackle down the Dinobots, possibly with surgeon training…” he paused and seemed to search his memory, before sighing. “I’m sorry. I don’t see anyone who’d fill the profile,” he said regretfully.

“Me neither,” Ratchet allowed. “The few ‘bots I think could have make the cut have all been deactivated for megavorns.”

“So, we’re stuck, aren’t we?” the engineer asked.

Hoist shrugged. “Well, aside from giving medical training to a whole gestalt or building a medically inclined mech from scratch…” he trailed off as he surprised the look Ratchet and Wheeljack exchanged. “Uh oh. I just given you an idea, didn’t I?” he asked worriedly.

Twin grins were his only answer.


End file.
